Now Isn't a Good Time
by SiriusFan13
Summary: In another stroke of misfortune, Kenshin finds his way into another timely situation. Now, the clock is ticking. How will Kenshin find his way home? Will that baka ever stay where he belongs? Companion piece to IN DUE TIME. Please R&R!
1. What Goes Up

**Disclaimer:** I own nothing Ruroken. I do own the character "Himura Miki" in the sense that I put the name and rough character background together... not like you're going to have to worry about him much anyway... (clears throat)... moving on... This story can be treated as a companion-sequel to "In Due Time" although you don't have to read it to understand this. There are just occasional references. (How could I require you to read it when I'm not even done WRITING it?)

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_Meiji (post-Kyoto arc)  
_

**Now Isn't a Good Time**

Hiko scowled into his sake, shooting the occasional glare at his baka deshi who was outside planting flowers or some other ridiculous thing. It wasn't that Hiko had a problem with the flowers themselves. He was a strong advocate of life, and planting things was giving life. That was fine. But what the hell did _Hiko_ need with little white and purple flowers all around his home? He had the distinct impression that this was some sort of payback from Kenshin for Hiko having beaten him yet again while sparring.

Hiko snorted. As if he weren't _always_ going to beat Kenshin at sparring. It wasn't _his_ fault that he was bigger and stronger and more disciplined than the baka.

He watched his deshi. _Oh, god… Did he just bring in some _pink_ flowers?_ This had to end.

The huge man rose from the log and turned from his kiln. He strode purposefully toward his baka deshi. "You know, Kenshin. I realize that I taught you that battling through wits is as important as battling through strength, but right now all you're managing to do is piss me off."

"I don't know what you mean, Shishou," the redhead replied, not bothering to turn around. The flower in his hand was a particularly hideous shade of magenta.

"Stop planting the damn flowers. If you want a rematch, I'll willingly beat you into the ground again. But you're going to find yourself _buried_ under those pink things if you don't quit planting them."

Kenshin straightened, brushing the sweat from his brow, and smiling brightly. "A rematch would be nice, that it would. Perhaps the planting can wait."

Hiko smirked wryly. "Perhaps..." He walked back over to the log and set his sake bottle down. No point in spilling it if he didn't have to. "Let's just do this and get it over with."

The redhead nodded, and moved into his stance. "Ready."

The tall swordsman just stared at him. "Here? Why not by the waterfall? We _always_ spar near the waterfall."

Kenshin's eyebrow twitched. "That we do, shishou. And then you always throw me into the waterfall. Here will be fine, that it most certainly will."

Hiko just shook his head. "You baka... this is a terrible place to fight. There are too many trees. Not to mention all of the things a clumsy baka like you could trip over. The log. My sake. What if you trip over my sake bottle and break your neck? That's good sake."

Kenshin just narrowed his eyes.

Hiko sighed when his baka deshi didn't answer. "Fine. Let's go."

It really wasn't much of a fight. It started out alright. Somehow during his planting, Kenshin had gotten his second wind, so Hiko didn't have to hold back much to keep from killing his deshi. But the baka was so predictable. Ryu tsui sen. That's all Kenshin seemed to want to use. And it was not a move the worked well in a wooded area, as he had to constantly be sure that when he was going airborne there were no low branches in his way.

Hiko snorted, trying to decide how long he was going to let Kenshin jump around like that before he landed a hit and laid the baka flat. Probably soon. The fight was getting boring.

Kenshin must have sensed his shishou's boredom, because his eyes flashed in annoyance, and he made ready to attack with everything he had.

Hiko watched in amusement as his baka deshi once again attacked with ryu tsui sen. _"Too bad the baka can't focus on anything else when he puts everything into his attack."_

Sure enough, the potential force behind Kenshin's attack was lessened by the very large tree whose massive boughs were hanging right over Kenshin's head. Amazing how vulnerable ryu tsui sen was to its user being cracked in the head and knocked unconscious by the bough of a tree.

The swordsmaster stared a moment at his deshi in disgust before shaking his head and walking back to his hut. Clearly this situation called for some sake. How the hell had he wound up with a deshi who was so stupid?

Maybe if he left the baka there, Kenshin would realize that Hiko wasn't going to save him from his own idiocy anymore. Hell, the boy was thirty years old. Hiko refused to keep nursing him back to health. If the baka died, that was his own damn fault.

With that thought, Hiko entered the cool shade of his home.

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Kenshin woke up hours later to a massive headache and no shishou. He moaned, slowly sitting up and rubbing his head. The last moments of his attack came back to him, and he quickly tried to repress the memory. Thank goodness darkness had already fallen. Because he'd have died if Hiko had seen the embarrassed flush on his cheeks. 

The redhead looked around, suddenly aware of his surroundings. Come to think of it... where _was_ his shishou? Hiko Seijuro was nowhere in sight.

Kenshin sighed. Typical of his shishou to just leave him outside. Kenshin could still remember the time Hiko had knocked him out in the middle of winter and then had just left him in the snow to freeze. He'd called it "survival" training. Apparently that meant if you survived, then you were trained.

Kenshin looked in the direction of Hiko's shack. There was a dim firelight coming from the kiln, and the silhouette of his shishou was clearly seated before it.

The redhead sighed and dragged himself over to his shishou, fully expecting the man to begin ridiculing him as soon as he was within earshot. So, it was a great surprise when Hiko didn't even turn around. Kenshin stopped and stared at the man. Now that he was closer, it suddenly occurred to him that Hiko didn't quite look right either. He seemed a bit thinner, less muscular... and was his hair... white?

Kenshin blinked. Rubbed his eyes and blinked again. No... it couldn't be.

"Oro..." Kenshin moaned, finally realizing what had happened. Somehow he had traveled back in time again. This man was Hiko Seijuro the twelfth, not his Shishou.

At the sound of his voice, the old man turned around, and stared at him. "You're late." He growled, his face in shadow.

Kenshin shook his head, confused. "Late? Were you expecting me, Hiko-sama?"

The old man snorted. "Only for the past hour. And since when did you start calling me anything but 'Shishou,' Kenji?"

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_Author's Note: I know... I'm crazy or something. But I periodically work on a story, and then I hit writer's block when I don't know where I want to go. That's when weird plots like these take root in my mind. So, while I struggle through the next chapter of "In Due Time," please enjoy this escape into insanity. (My pathetic attempt at humor... Perhaps I should stick with angst...) Anyway, this story goes with "In Due Time" in which it references bits and pieces of that story. But you don't have to read "In Due Time" to understand it, nor do I have to complete "In Due Time" to write this fiction (ahhhh... the beauty of it...) Anyway, thanks so much for reading. Please review. I could really use some input!_

_Dewa mata! _


	2. Must come down

**Now Isn't a Good Time**

It took Kenshin a moment to register that the man had called him by the wrong name. _Who was this Kenji person?_ "Hiko-sama. I'm afraid I don't understand. Who is this Kenji?" He looked around again. "And where is Miki?"

The man stared at him a moment, his face still in shadow. "Miki? How did you... who the..." He trailed off a moment, before realization finally struck. "If you aren't Kenji... then you're..."

"Kenshin," the redhead replied. "I appear to have traveled back in time again, Hiko-sama."

The old man's quiet shock finally began wearing off. "Wait a minute, baka... you think that _I'm_ Hiko Seijuro the _Twelfth_? I'm not _that_ old!" The old man pulled his sheathed sword out of nowhere and swung it, cracking Kenshin hard over the head.

The rurouni yelped, stumbling backwards out of the old man's reach. "But I don't understand..." Kenshin mumbled, rubbing his very sore head. "If you aren't Hiko-sama... then who are you?"

"You know how to read ki, baka. Why don't you try it?"

Kenshin paused.

"Baka?"

Kenshin remained silent.

"Baka!"

"You can't be my shishou," Kenshin finally replied stubbornly. "No." He shook his head. "You aren't Hiko Seijuro the Thirteenth. Hiko would never... He isn't..." Kenshin trailed off, staring hard at him. "Shishou...?" he finally asked weakly. "You're so old..."

CRACK!

Hiko's sword found its target on Kenshin's head once again. "I told you, I'm not that old. And it's your fault I've lived this long anyway. You were supposed to kill me years ago, baka. So don't go blaming me because you screwed up learning amakakeru ryu no hirameki."

Kenshin didn't seem to have registered anything that Hiko had said. He was still just staring at the old man, swirley eyed. "You have grey hair, Shishou. I never thought you'd get grey hair. You always looked younger than your age. You must have aged a great deal to look like--"

This time the redhead didn't even get to finish his sentence when he was nearly knocked silly.

"Shishou!" Kenshin snapped, looking angry. "There is no reason to hit me, that there is not. I'm only saying the truth. I can see that old age hasn't improved your personality any."

The old man snorted. "And I can see that you really _are_ as stupid as I remember." He rubbed his temples in frustration. "This isn't possible." He sighed. "Of course, if something ridiculous, frustrating and impossible was going to happen to anybody, it _would_ happen to you, so I shouldn't be too surprised." He motioned to Kenshin. "Sit."

Kenshin didn't move. "Right here? Can't we at least go inside, Shishou?"

Hiko glared at him. "No. I don't feel like getting up and having to walk in there, so you can sit on the ground and like it."

Kenshin sat. "It isn't a long walk, Shishou."

"Shut up." Hiko whipped out his sake bottle and began chugging it. _How the hell was he supposed to deal with this? Obviously he had to send the baka home. But how to do it without Kenshin getting the mistaken impression that his shishou had gotten old and weak? _Hiko's eyes fell on his deshi, and he began chugging the sake again.

"Shishou," Kenshin suddenly said tentatively, "do you really think you should be drinking that much sake? That can't be good for a man your age..."

WHACK!

Hiko's eyebrow twitched as he watched his nearly unconscious baka deshi try to drag himself up from the ground. "Watch it, baka. I mean it... You keep making comments like that and you're not going to live to _see_ my age."

Kenshin rubbed his head and muttered darkly to himself, all the while scooting himself backwards a few feet so he'd be out of his shishou's swinging range. "Is that all you're going to do, Shishou? _Hit _me? Aren't you even happy to see me?"

Hiko snorted. "Why would I be happy to see you? You were a pain in the ass as a kid, You were a psychotic as a teenager. Then you went soft, and became a pain in the ass with psychotic mood swings as an adult. And then you dumped me with _your_ kid for training." He scowled darkly. "And that kid had more attitude than even _you_ did. You should feel grateful I didn't hit you harder."

Kenshin's eyes were one shade away from the amber of a hitokiri. "Fine," he said tightly. "Then maybe we can just figure out how to send me home, so I can get out of your hair."

"Sounds good to me."

The two men glared at each other for a moment.

Hiko finally broke the silence. "So how did you get here, baka?"

Kenshin immediately looked away. "I'm not exactly sure. You and I were fighting. And I was... knocked out."

"So you got knocked silly and you came here. Well, that's easy to fix. Come closer and let me hit you a little harder and maybe you'll go home."

The redhead's expression was dark. "And if it doesn't work, shishou?"

The old man shrugged and smirked. "If at first you don't succeed, try, try again. Eventually I'm sure I'll hit you hard enough."

Kenshin scooted back a little further. "Perhaps we could try sparring again. Maybe it was the situation that brought me here, not the bruising."

Hiko nearly choked on his sake. "What?"

"Sparring. We could try sparring again."

The old man stared at Kenshin for a long time. "You want to spar..."

Kenshin nodded. Then a thought suddenly seemed to occur to him. "Oh, that might not be a good idea. I'm sorry, shishou, that I am. How thoughtless. At your age, you shouldn't have to fight me. I wouldn't want to hurt you..."

Hiko's eyes narrowed dangerously as he glared at his baka deshi over his sake bottle. _"That baka's actually smirking at me! I can't let him think I'm afraid to fight him. But shit... he's only thirty. He's over fifty years younger than I am. Can I take him? I can't _lose_ to him... Maybe if I wear him out first with meaningless tasks first I have a chance..." _He smirked. "Sparring's no problem. But we're not doing it tonight. It's getting too dark to fight."

Kenshin looked around at the dark woods behind him. "Too dark? But Shishou, we used to spar at night all the--"

"We'll spar tomorrow morning. I've nearly given you a concussion, so I'd have an unfair advantage. Not that my skill and power won't already guarantee my success..."

Kenshin cocked a quizzical eyebrow at his shishou, but tactfully didn't comment. Instead he cleared his throat and asked, "Then what do you want to do until then?"

"Go inside and get some sleep," Hiko suggested. "You'll need it if you want to fight me."

Kenshin nodded. "Fine." He stood up, then noticed that his shishou hadn't moved yet. "Aren't you coming?"

"I'll come when I'm done with my sake," he growled, his hand twitching on the sword once again.

Aged or not, Kenshin didn't want to have to deal with a violently angry Hiko. He'd had enough of that as a child. Without another word, Kenshin retreated to the hut.

Hiko just watching him go. _"What have I gotten myself into...?"_

He looked back down at his half empty sake jug. _"Oh, the hell with the doctor saying I can't keep drinking like this. I'm going to need it tonight..."_

And with that he began chugging sake once again...

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_Author's Note: Thanks for reading. Hopefully "In Due Time" and "Out of Time" will be updated soon! Please drop a review!_

_Oh, and I've added a note that the story begins in Meiji to chapter one. Thank you everyone who pointed out how confusing time-wise that opening was. I never realized, but I should have... heh... _

_Dewa mata! _

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